CHAPTER 160: TELL ME

"Tell me about the Omega that you have recently bonded with, Prince Zen."

Zen frowned at the direct question. Hadn’t she just summoned him here for a story? Why then was the Grand Witch asking him questions instead of just getting on with it? First, she had asked about the curses, and now about this...

However, what was odd was that he had no problem talking about the curses, but when it came to Emira, something in him resisted. It wasn’t that he disliked speaking of her—it was that he did not want to expose her, as if every word about her belonged only to him. He’d rather keep everything about her hidden inside him than share her with anyone...

So, he clenched his teeth and said, "Nothing much to say there. Emira is an Omega who cannot shift. She was an orphan, and her pack is one of the lowest scums on earth- wolves who do not treat Omegas like people. Emira wanted to escape that, and she found her chance with us so she bound herself to us."

The Grand Witch laughed at that and said, "Your Highness, you really think I am that naive to believe things are so simple? She must have known her pack would not allow her to leave. Why do you think she knew that? She could have renounced her pack and run away. Why did she bind herself to you? Was it really a coincidence? And how many wolves know about the binding of the shadow wolves? Have you never wondered that?"

Zen shrugged. He had no idea. All he knew was that Emira did have a motive, and it was something related to her revenge for her mother, but that was it. However, he didn’t think the Grand Witch needed to know that...

The Grand Witch laughed at his silence, a soft, low sound that echoed strangely in the dim chamber. "Let me tell you something truly interesting then," she said, her tone lilting, almost indulgent. "Something no one else knows."

Zen’s frown deepened, but he said nothing. The Witch’s gaze held his, bright with amusement as she went on, "The other sister in the story was never meant to live a simple life. She was chosen to be the Dark Master’s bride. It was her task to love him, to keep him from losing himself and destroying the world. That was her curse and her purpose both. And because she was meant to hold darkness within her heart, she learned the dark arts. That," she added with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, "was how she seduced the two lords. By using the dark arts?"

Zen’s hand tightened where it rested on his knee. He wanted to scoff, but something in the Witch’s tone made him pause.

"And do you know," she continued softly, "what is even more interesting? The magic of binding someone to yourself—someone who is not your mate—is a dark art as well."

Her eyes flicked toward him, gleaming faintly in the candlelight. "A powerful one. The binding, if left undisturbed, can change over time. It can... evolve. It can become a mate bond."

Zen went still. His pulse beat sharply in his ears, drowning out the faint crackle of the candles.

The Witch’s voice lowered to a near whisper, almost as though she were speaking only to herself. "It is why the one who uses such magic must give up the chance of finding her true mate. Because the bond she creates—through choice or through need—replaces what fate once intended."

He stared at her, unable to form a response. Her words pressed against his chest like a weight he couldn’t push off. What did she mean the slave bond could turn into a real mate bond? That was impossible. Their true mate was Ramona.

And yet...

Something in him hesitated. A thin thread of doubt wound through his thoughts, pulling at him until he could no longer ignore it.

He thought of Emira—the way her scent unsettled him, the way her gaze silenced him without effort. The way the bond, though forged by force, sometimes felt... alive and more precious than that with Ramona. In fact, his main reason for the bond had been to make Ramona see sense, but hadn’t he started to hope that Emira was their true mate?

He clenched his hands until his knuckles whitened. No. That couldn’t be what the Witch meant.

But even as the denial formed, another thought came unbidden.

This story she was telling... about a woman who took two lords for herself...

His breath caught.

Wasn’t that them?

Hadn’t he and Kael both drawn close to Emira in ways they couldn’t explain, couldn’t resist?

The realization struck like a spark to dry wood, spreading fast as the unwelcome thought took root in his mind.

He wanted to dismiss it, but the Witch’s gaze seemed to pierce straight through him, as if she already knew what he was thinking as she continued, "And what is even more interesting is that the dark magic used in such bindings often draws from certain stones that are used to channel the curse."

Her eyes drifted down toward his wrist. And he knew without even looking exactly what she was referring to. The stone bracelet that Emira had given them...before she bound herself to them.

But the Grand Witch wasn’t done as she continued, "You see, the original descendants of the Dark Master perished in the Great War. All but two. One was the Dark Master himself. And the other...The other was a young girl of mixed blood-half witch, half wolf. Her name was Ember. She was bound by prophecy to give birth to the next bride of the Dark Lord and help correct the wrongs. The child who would carry both the curse and the cure within her."

Then as if done with everything she wanted to say, she said," Ember was... my apprentice since she was young. I kept her sheltered, intending to keep her away but fate has it’s own ways and one day, she left this place... let me show you a picture of her..."